For a handful of ginger roots
by mtranc3
Summary: Bitter and cynical potions brewer Snape, agrees to create a hair lotion for the whimsical Wizard Howl, in exchange for ingredients. Lots of flangstiness ensues. [Harry Potter, Howl's Moving Castle crossover]


**Title: **For a handful of ginger roots  
**Author:** mtranc3  
**Requestor:** painlessj  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter/Howl's Moving Castle (movie verse) crossover  
**Category:** Fantasy, Romance, AU (that last is a great understatement)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Howl  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Wordcount:** 8067  
**Warnings: **Unbeta'd  
**Summary: **Bitter and cynical potions brewer Snape, agrees to create a hair lotion for the whimsical Wizard Howl, in exchange for ingredients. Lots of flangstiness ensues.  
**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. How's Moving Castle belongs to Diana Wynne Jones, and the film version of the book, to Hayao Miyazaki. No profit is being made.  
**Author's Notes: **Written for **slashfest**'s round V, prompt: _Howl can't brew his magical concoctions himself: it causes accidental and disastrous hair-dyes, and he's busy with other stuff anyway. So he finds a reliable Potion maker. Who Is. Not. Impressed. With Howl's Charm or Magical Powers. Howl's up for a challenge. Serious or smutty, with a happy(ish) ending is a bonus._ I've never written an HP crossover before, and it has been a while since I last watched Howl's Moving Castle, but I hope this is at least a bit similar to what the requestor had in mind! I hope you'll enjoy it!

"I'm afraid I can't give you another extension, Snape; either you pay now, or there's no more ginger roots for you" said the grocer behind the bench, and then made a show of grabbing the ginger roots from Snape's hands and putting them back to their stand.

A vein popped out on Snape's forehead, but his voice was decidedly calm when he spoke next:

"Mr. Ollivander, my new potion will be a great success in the market, it needs but a few more days of brewing, and then it will be ready for testing. _These_" he pointed to the battered ginger roots "are pivotal for the potion's final stage. I assure you, I will pay you back as soon as -"

"There's nothing for it Snape, you already owe me a lot... you'll have your roots when you clear your debt, and that's my final word on it."

Snape pursed his lips and gave the chubby man a glare worthy of an upperclassman, but he didn't say anything else. Instead, he moved out of the way of the old lady, who was next in the queue for 'Ollivander's Grand Grocery Store', and made his way back to his house.

It was actually more of a hut, than a house. Severus Snape was only a poor Potions brewer, and life in town didn't come cheap. The hut had only two rooms; the kitchen/bathroom and the bedroom. But lately, Snape had taken to sleeping in the kitchen, since he had transformed his bedchamber to a laboratory, in order to host his latest invention: a potion to cure most common ailments and illnesses, from measles to constipation. He usually brewed fancy potions that were easily marketable and catchy, but rather useless. But he was getting old for travelling from funfair to funfair, trying to impress irksome children with his tricks, and then bargain with their unimpressed mothers. And Severus _hated_ children. This potion was going to make him the resident potion brewer in the village, and he'd finally be able to afford a home with a proper laboratory, and all the ginger roots he wanted.

His stomach fell when he thought back to Ollivander's words 'there's nothing for it', but Snape would be damned before he saw all his work and careful preparation go to waste because of a stubborn grocery-man.

He entered the room slowly, circling the fire where the potion was simmering, almost reverently, and smelled the colourful vapours that surrounded the cauldron.

The colour was satisfactory, the consistency quite adequate and the smell... the smell was wondrous! The potion _smelled_ like a cure, he felt better and more energetic with each sniff. Snape always trusted his sense of smell when making potions; if it smelled right, then it was more likely to be right. He had a big nose that crooked in the middle, giving it the appearance of a vulture's beak, but Snape had found a good use for it, and now he wouldn't trade it for the most elegant button nose in the world. Besides, Snape was anything but a vain man, and he despised those who dwelled on the superficial appearance of things.

A knock on the door shook him out of his thoughts. He gave the potion one last indulgent look and went to the door. Who could be wanting to see him? Snape rarely had any visitors, and they were business-related most of the time.

"Hello? Hello there? Excuse me!"

Snape opened the door and found an old woman looking up at him.

"Yes?" He folded his arms and looked at the woman expectantly. He was a busy man, and hated to be disturbed for no reason.

"Oh, do excuse me for the intrusion, but I was standing behind you at the grocery store, and I couldn't help over-hearing your conversation with Mr. Ollivander..."

Snape raised an eyebrow, feeling a mild migraine coming. If the old woman was there for charity...

Right to the point, the old woman produced a handful of ginger roots out of her knit basket, holding them out to Snape timidly.

And it was the most beautiful vision Severus had ever seen in his life. But he couldn't accept it, he was a man of principles, and proud almost to a fault.

"While I appreciate your charitable emotions, old lady, I am not accustomed to accepting -"'

"No, no," the old woman cut in "you got it all wrong. I did not mean to insult you! I'm here for a business transaction..."

Snape gave her a disbelieving look. She seemed indeed very old and frail, but there was strength in her voice, and her eyes never wavered from his face.

He eyed the roots quickly, and decided to give her a chance.

"What kind of business transaction are we talking about?"

"Well," the woman said smiling "I'm the cleaning lady, you see, for a young man that got into some hair trouble I should say... It was actually my fault; I was cleaning the bathroom, and probably mixed up the vials he uses to wash his hair, and he is very sensitive about his hair. It turned an awful colour, and now he is extremely distraught... I heard you are a potions maker, so maybe you can help us... and in turn we'll provide you with all the ingredients you need for your potions. My master might be a bit flimsy, but he is very generous..." she stopped to catch her breath after talking non-stop for so long, and gave Snape the time to mull her words over.

If he accepted, he could have the precious gingers roots and finally be able to finish his potion. And all he'd have to do was probably concoct a hair solution for a spoiled rich lord. It wasn't a bad deal, he'd definitely made more undignified potions during his funfair days. The woman was looking at him with her soft, hazel eyes, and Snape cleared his throat.

"Very well" he said "I accept. But I'll make the potion for your master after I finish mine, and I will be needing those for it" he told her, pointing to the roots. The lady looked down at her lap, and for a moment Snape thought that she might not trust him to keep his word, and that she'd shove the roots back to her basket and whisk them away, but then she smiled and held them out for him.

"Of course! When do you plan to finish the potion though? I'm afraid my master is quite, er, anxious when it comes to his hair..."

"I'll be done in three days time, then I can come and see what kind of potion exactly your master requires... Where is his establishment?"

"It's... um... I'll come to fetch you if that's all right, I've always been dreadful with directions..."

She smiled again and Snape raised both eyebrows. Well, strange lady or not, he got his roots. He'd let himself worry about what was going to happen later, well, later...

"All right, be here no sooner than three days exactly, and don't worry, I am a man of my word."

"That's what I thought" the lady said and her eyes twinkled playfully. "Until then."

Snape nodded and holding the roots close to him, went back in the house.

….

The old woman appeared in Snape's doorstep exactly three days later, and led Severus through a maze of narrow streets to the southern end of Porthaven that was nearest to the sea. She had quite the spring in her step, even though by his estimation, she must have been closing 90. By the time they had reached their destination, Severus, who was carrying a large bag with his equipment, was out of breath.

The old lady took a moment to recover herself, and announced with a smile, "Here we are!"

Severus read the sign above the door with disbelief.

"You mean to tell me your master is the Wizard Jenkins?"

The old woman's smile fell a little. "Yes, is there a problem?"

"One would assume a so-called _Wizard_ would be able to brew his own hair lotion..."

"Of course he can, it's just that he hasn't been feeling well lately, you see..." she offered, faltering a little.

Severus nodded and breathed deeply. He hoped this wasn't a waste of his valuable time. He had after all, a potion that was ready and was waiting, hidden in a cabinet, for him to test it.

The old lady smiled encouragingly and knocked on the door. "Markl, it's me."

A small boy peeped his head out of the door and his face brightened at the sight of them.

"Sophie, you're back! Hurry, he's doing it _again_..."

They were ushered in, and Snape was about to inquire on who was doing what, when he stepped on a gooey substance that seemed to be all over the floor. He raised his foot but some of it had stuck to the bottom of his sole. He followed the trail of the viscous liquid and when he reached the source, Snape had to blink his eyes in case they were deceiving him; in the middle of the small room, was the oddest vision he had ever seen in his life. The cause of the gooey substance was a _thing_ that was seated on a chair in front of the fireplace. It might have been a person, if it weren't for the fact that its skin seemed to be disintegrating to a fluorescent green _jelly_ (really, no other word for it, Severus thought), and was spread out, covering the floor around it.

Severus turned to the old lady - Sophie - in astonishment, but she didn't look the least surprised by the sight in front of them. She pursed her lips and rolled her sleeves up.

"Help me, we must get him upstairs."

Severus stared at her as if she had suddenly sprouted a second head.

"_This_ is your Master? This is _Jenkins_?"

"He's not like that usually..." the little kid offered, "but his hair won't return to its normal colour, and he'd been trying all afternoon..."

"It's his way of throwing a tantrum, he'll be all right after a hot bath." Sophie chipped in.

They both seemed as though they had been met with the same situation many a time before, and quickly went over to scoop the melting man off the chair.

Severus thought about his word of honour really hard, and with a dejected sigh, he walked over to help them, trying not to step in any more of the sticky trail.

The boy, Markl, had taken on the task of washing his master, and then Snape and Sophie helped bring the young man to bed. His room was as strange as the rest of the house, which seemed small on the outside, and yet had a daedalus of staircases and doors on the inside. Snape had never seen so many toys and dolls and jewels and trinkets gathered in one place, and when he first entered the room, his mind could only register '_shiny_'!

Sophie pulled the embroidered quilt up, and tucked Jenkins' arms inside. Clean and _solid_, Severus thought, the man looked almost like a child. His face was devoid of hard angles, his skin was even, and there wasn't a trace of stubble. The only cacophony was his hair, which was an obscene purple-pink colour.

"This is not the Wizard Jenkins." Snape said quietly. "This is a child."

Sophie didn't raise her eyes from the sleeping form, and smiled indulgently;

"Do not get fooled by his appearance, he is almost thirty yeas old. But you are right, his real name isn't Jenkins. This is Howl."

Snape's mind started grinding at that; he was certain he had heard of the name before. Howl... Howl... _Heart-Eating_ _Howl_! But it couldn't be, the land of the Wastes was in the opposite side of the country!

"Howl, the notorious Wizard that eats the hearts of airheaded little girls? Isn't he supposed to live in a castle far away?" Snape scoffed, with a shade of irony.

Sophie nodded her head and gestured around them. "I also pictured a castle differently in my head... and it's not true about the girls. Howl believes those rumours keep people away from him, and help him maintain his anonymity."

Snape didn't really know what to believe. It didn't make much difference who his employer was, as long as he could do his work and receive payment in the end. But Snape disliked surprises, and he had always believed that there was certain peril involved with secrecy.

They were about to exit the room when they heard a soft voice;

"Empty your pockets."

Severus and Sophie turned around to find Howl looking up at them, awoke and alert as if he wasn't dead for the world only seconds ago.

"I beg your pardon?" Snape said regaining his composure. Howl's eyes were bright and piercing, and there was something vaguely hostile in them.

"Please empty your pockets. The last time I had a visitor" Howl gave Sophie a pointed look and she promptly blushed, "they were carrying a rather unpleasant curse with them, courtesy of the Witch of the Waste."

"Well I certainly never -" Severus begun indignantly, but Howl cut him off:

"Better to be safe than sorry. Never mind though, I believe you."

Snape had the feeling that the Wizard could see through the fabric of his robes, but that was preposterous, even for a self-proclaimed Wizard. He huffed and straightened his robes, insulted at the insinuation that there might be something in there he didn't know about.

Sophie smiled sympathetically. "It's getting late, and Howl should rest. Come, I'll show you to your room."

Snape nodded his agreement and gave Howl a final glance; he had turned his head away from them, but he wasn't drifting back to sleep. His eyes were open wide, and he was staring off in space. He looked like a life-sized doll amidst all those toys, still, and otherworldly, like the fantastical room they were in.

Snape followed Sophie out and let the door close softly behind them.

….

A strong jolt roused Snape up the next morning. He blinked a couple of times in the darkness trying to shake off the feeling of grogginess. There was a soft humping on the walls and the floor, as if the room was moving, but Severus quickly admonished himself for the silly thought. He went to the window to open the blinds and let some fresh air in, and froze mid-yawn; outside, hilltops and clouds were passing him by, and Severus realized with a start that all the rumours about Howl's _moving _castle were actually true!

He marvelled at the view for a while, even popping his head outside a couple of times, before heading downstairs to begin his new appointment.

Sophie and Markl were already sitting in the kitchen table having breakfast, but Howl was nowhere in sight. Sophie had set a plate for Snape and gestured for him to sit down. He raised an eyebrow at the boy, who was munching happily on an egg with a _spoon_, but Markl only swallowed and grinned, before he scooped up another portion. Snape grabbed the fork, which was thankfully the only utensil left on the table, and chewed on a small bit of bacon.

"So you must be the Potions Brewer, eh?"

The voice that came from the fireplace startled Snape so much that he almost choked on his bite. Sophie patted him on the back and then pointed to the fire. The cackling, twisting, and very much _alive_ fire by the looks of it.

"This is Calcifer. He's a fire demon" she said as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Snape gave her an incredulous look.

"He makes the castle move and pretty much everything work around here" Markl offered as if that settled it, as far as explanations went.

Snape nodded slowly and with one eye still on the fire-demon, who was now eating a log, turned back to his meal.

"Howl isn't coming for breakfast. I'm sorry, he's being very difficult lately... Both sides in the war are pressuring him to join and fight, and he's been hiding from the Witch of the Waste, and now his hair..." Sophie said with a sigh.

Severus resisted rolling his eyes. He didn't have a high regard for Witches or Wizards, mainly because he saw them as antagonists in his profession. The real reason though, was that he had worked very hard to brew potions that did certain things, while all a Wizard had to do was probably flick his hand, or use a seal or a curse, to achieve the same effect, without even blinking an eye. He felt even more strongly about vain people, who flaunted their beauty inconsiderably; it ired him to no end, probably because he had never been beautiful himself.

A cracking noise shook him out of his dwellings. Howl was coming down the stairs and Markl quickly got up to help him. He had a colourful cardigan thrown over his shoulders and he looked somewhat frail.

"Good morning everyone."

"Howl, you're up!" Sophie beamed, her wrinkled face suddenly looking younger, and Snape stood up, as it was customary.

"You must be the Potion maker. Sophie has told me you are the best in your trade. Can you really make my hair lotion?"

Snape cast a quick glance at Sophie who gave him a strained smile.

"Severus Snape. Nice to ah, make your acquaintance. Although, I don't know about the lotion, I'll be requiring some information first."

Howl turned around abruptly, and started climbing back up. "Follow me then, we need to start right away."

_Well, aren't you quite the obnoxious Ice Prince... _Snape thought, but followed Howl upstairs nevertheless.

The Wizard led them to the bathroom. It was a small room with a cabinet that was bursting with vials and bottles, and a tub that had splashes of all the colours of the rainbow on it, and then some.

"I usually brew potions myself, but Sophie mixed up my vials, calling it _cleaning_, and I can't seem to find the right way to make the lotion any more." Howl said with a sigh. His hair had gone completely dark and Snape look at it quizzically.

"Oh no, this is a dreadful colour! I make the lotion to dye my hair blond."

"Blond?" Snape asked raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, strawberry blond, with flecks of gold that sort of pale in the sun -"

"Yes, yes, I get it!" Snape said, cursing the fates for presenting him with yet another unhinged patron.

"Although your hair colour being dark right now, I'll have to create two potions; one for de-colouring it, and one for the actual dyeing. I believe I'll be needing some lemon balm, chamomile flowers..."

"So you think you can do it?" Howl cut him off, looking anxious.

Severus scoffed, insulted. "I've brewed much more difficult (and useful, he thought privately) potions than a hair dye in the past. For example, my facial hair eliminating potion was a great success. A gentleman of the North was quite severely affected by the most peculiar hair growth I've ever seen. Lupin was his name, if I remember correctly, and his partner paid a hefty amount of money for the potion, because it was terribly difficult to concoct. But it worked quite effectively..." Snape trailed off, cringing at the idea that he was actually _rambling_, but Howl didn't seem to mind. He was beaming in fact, and Severus nearly gasped at the transformation on his face; Howl's eyes were brilliant and shinning, and his smile excited and trusting at the same time. Certainly not the kind of face one saw everyday.

Snape cleared his throat, dismissing the momentary lapse of sanity, and pointed at Howl's head once again;

"I'll be requiring some of your hair for testing as well."

Howl's smile promptly fell and he took a couple of steps back.

"Is that going to be necessary?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Now if you please..." Snape said, taking out his hand.

"But... my hair?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, here!" He quickly pulled out a few strands from the top of Howl's head and put them in his pockets.

Howl yelped. "Ow! That was - are you _mad_?"

"Do you want this potion made or not? If I don't test the dye on a sample first, how will I know it works for certain? Or, I could turn around and leave right now, and you can go back to having purple hair." Snape sneered in his most acidic tones.

The Wizard looked murderous but nodded. "You'll find ingredients in the cabinet. If you want something that's not there, let Markl know and he'll get it for you. Your potion had better be good."

Howl's voice was cold and his eyes had lost their previous glimmer. Snape, who mostly possessed one expression - that of vague contempt - could not help wondering how Howl's demeanour could change so easily.

They had what could only be described as a staring contest for a few moments, but Snape refrained from a making a retort, mentally going over his mantra: _the client is always right, the client is always right... even when he is an arrogant, spoiled, Wizarding bastard, he is always right..._

When Howl exited the room, Snape had already begun sorting out the containers in the cabinet. The quicker he finished the lotion, the sooner he'd be able to return home.

….

It had already been four days since Severus had arrived at the so-called castle, and they were rapidly becoming the strangest period in his entire life. Not even his encounter with Hagrid, The Fearsome Giant of The East, could compare. Never mind that the giant hadn't been fearsome at all, but rather good-natured, and had helped Snape find the black geranium seeds he was searching for. It had still been a surreal experience, and yet, seemed laughable compared to his current situation.

For instance, on the second day Severus had opened the front door, because he wanted to go to the market for ingredients himself (honestly, who would trust an _8-year_ old with such delicate material?), only to find himself in the middle of a busy road in _Kingsbury_! Severus had promptly shut the door, thinking himself delusional, probably due to all the fumes stuffing the atmosphere in that small bathroom. Sophie and Markl's identical looks of horror when they spotted him at the door, made him try it again. The outside was most certainly Kingsbury, Severus decided on the second venture, and had felt glad that his delusions were at least consistent. It wasn't until Markl had explained the workings of the door that Snape had rekindled his faith on his sanity. Apparently, the tetrachromatic bell on the wall indicated four different places in the country that the door could open to: Porthaven, Kingsbury, the Wastes, and a place only Howl knew about. Sophie had looked disappointed that Snape didn't seem inclined to play with the door when he'd understood how it worked; she had been quite enthusiastic about it when she'd first started working for Howl.

Sophie herself had proven another surprise for Snape; on the night of the third day, Snape had found himself unable to sleep, because the constant movement gave him a queasy feeling in the stomach, and he had gone downstairs to prepare a nausea repellent broth (patented by himself, of course), and happened to look over at Sophie's bed by the fireplace, almost getting a heart-attack in the process; the old lady was gone, and a young girl was sleeping peacefully in her place. A sound coming from the darkness had given him a second consecutive shock. Severus prided himself for remaining cool-headed and disaffected in a multitude of strange circumstances, but seeing Howl in the shadows, slowly being transformed back to a person from a giant bird-like creature with enormous black wings, was not one of them. Severus' eyebrows had shot to his forehead and it was only because he was speechless, that he hadn't yelped.

Howl had smiled, and when he was fully back to his normal appearance, he explained that Sophie, a young lady in reality, had a nasty curse cast on her, one that she unfortunately couldn't speak of. As for his own transformation, he had simply shrugged and said that he did only what was necessary, in order to prevent the other Wizards involved in the war from causing more casualties. He had seemed nonchalant about the whole thing, even though he was covered in ashes and bruises from top to bottom, and Calcifer wouldn't stop mumbling about how one of those days Howl wouldn't be able to transform back. Snape had gone to bed that night, broth all but forgotten, feeling like he was having a very realistic and vivid _dream_.

Howl's conspicuous absence from breakfast the following morning was tale-telling however, and Snape, presently confined in the bathroom, couldn't help but wonder what other kind of surprises awaited him in the future. The events of the previous night, however peculiar, served to increase his esteem for his employer. If Howl risked his life trying to protect people, then he wasn't as self-involved as Snape had made him out to be.

The potion was the only thing that was going as expected, and he was quite pleased with the results. The discolouration lotion had worked like a charm and he was almost done with the actual dye. The mixture needed to simmer in a low fire for a few days (the infusion of the licorice root extract required quite some time), and then another two days to set, and it'd be ready for testing. But the bulk of the work had been done away with.

A white-haired head popped in the door and Severus quit his stirring.

"Is it done yet?"

"You asked me not ten minutes ago" Severus said not looking up at Howl. "And it won't be for at least another week till you can try it, because it needs to set first, and then I have to test it..."

Howl sighed and sat at the edge of the bath tub. "It smells horribly in here, how can you stand it?"

Severus decided to ignore him, because he absolutely abhorred small talk, and 'hmmed' instead.

Howl remained silent, the only sound in the room being the ladle bumping against the cauldron. After a couple of minutes, when he was satisfied with the consistency, Snape half-covered the cauldron with a lid, and rolled down his sleeves. His arms joints gave unpleasant cracking noises and Howl stood up with a jounce.

"Come on, I believe you need a break..."

Snape looked at him indignantly. "I assure you I'm all right, I have been sitting in the same position for too long..."

"All the more reason." Howl said. "Come on, Sophie and Markl are already outside, drying the laundry."

Snape realised he'd be losing this battle, and it was indeed true that he needed a break, so he followed Howl out of the bathroom.

Howl went through a door on the same floor which opened to small balcony on the side of the irregular construction of the castle, and the sudden wave of wind momentarily took Severus' breath away. He held on the rail and breathed in deeply. It was refreshing after hours inside a small room, and the view was magnificent. Calcifer had stopped the castle on a spot overlooking a lake, that was surrounded by mountains. The water was sparkling blue and reflected the sun's rays. Sophie and Markl were sitting by the edge, between two long rows of laundry rope, that formed a V sign and were held together by Turnip Head, an animated scarecrow that had befriended Sophie, as Howl informed Snape. Little surprised him any more, and it was one of the few times Snape had felt so much at peace. He leaned a little closer to the rail, in order to look down at the ground and then there was a hard slap at his back. Severus lost his balance and toppled over the balcony. His brain was momentarily confused by the sudden change in gravity, and it took him a couple of seconds to realize he was actually falling _down_ and then he let out the most undignified sound.

A loud, piercing shrill.

He shrieked and kept shrieking and flailing in panic, until something grabbed him from the neck, nearly choking him in the process. Severus felt a body next to his own and a hand on his waist, and the falling slowed down. He brushed his hair away from his face and saw Howl grinning like a lunatic next to him. He seemed to be holding both of them mid-air. Severus took a deep breath, as if his lungs had been closed up to that moment, relieved that he escaped imminent death, and furious at Howl for bringing him in that situation in the first place.

"Try to walk with, come on, it's fun." Howl said smiling.

If he didn't feel like the world would topple over if he let go of Howl, Snape would have given him a black eye to go with his white hair, he was that angry.

"I demand you unhanded me, this is undignified!"

Howl laughed "Don't you _ever_ relax? Besides, you'd never agree if I asked you, so..."

"So you went ahead and pushed me, is that it? I could have gotten a heart-attack, a... an apoplexy!"

"You would definitely have gotten an apoplexy if you stayed in that room any longer. Come on, don't be afraid, I'm holding us both up."

"I never said I was afraid" Snape said, his voice returning to normal levels, "but to do so without my permission..."

Howl held him a bit tighter then and begun walking forwards, as if trying to demonstrate a point.

Snape decided that as soon as they reached the ground safely, he would strangle the man, but for the time being he had no choice but to play along.

He relaxed his legs and attempted a step. Even though there wasn't a solid substance underneath to propel him, he still moved forwards, and Howl gave him a brilliant smile.

_Oh, no you don't._.. Snape thought, _that might work on Sophie - she is a young girl after all - but not on me..._

He scoffed at Howl and focused on the fantastical experience of seeing the ground a great distance from his feet without anything beneath them. Small clouds were passing them by, and Howl's new hair colour made him look like a creature of myth, adding to the surreal atmosphere of the moment.

Snape's robes were billowing around him and he thanked the Gods for wearing trousers underneath them that morning. _Oh hell, what are you thinking? You are walking on air for heaven's sake!  
_  
Howl must have felt him relaxing, for he turned them around in a mini swirl, laughing mischievously, and from all the odd thoughts he could be having, Snape found himself wondering with how many people Howl had done this before.

….

The next few days passed quicker than Severus would have liked. There was an obscure, but persistent thought at the back of his head, and a nagging sensation at the pit of his stomach, that Severus needed time to scrutinize, because he felt as though it was growing the longer he neglected it. There was no time for soul-searching however; the potion was ready and he had to prepare things for testing.

His stomach was not the only thing troubling him though; Ever since the balcony incident (it was solely because of the coordinated efforts of Sophie and Turnip Head that Howl was saved from his hands), Howl had become more jovial around him. Like Snape, he wasn't overly fond of talking too much, but he had taken to performing magic tricks and stunts, in order to impress Severus, and he smiled that dazzling smile of his every time he got the chance. It was during those moments in particular, that the nagging in his stomach did a sort of back flip, and Severus, even though a disciplined and contained man, was not so much contained as to miss the signs when he saw them. He realized that the longer he stayed in that place, the more difficult it would be to shake off that _fascination_? _Curiosity_? Whatever Howl caused him to feel. And he knew these sensations because he had felt them before; when he was really young and hadn't known any better. It wasn't that Snape was a bitter man (much), it was that he knew people's egotistical natures were bound to hurt the ones who got too close, so it was wise for one to avoid putting one's self in those situations in the first place. Thus, he ignored the nagging, and turned away from the smiles, and wondered if he would find his routine life, after all of this was over, dull and colourless.

….

"I believe you should like to know that the lotion is ready."

Howl looked up from the table, and right on time there was a bright smile.

"I'll be needing some more of that hair of yours to make sure the colour is right and it won't turn blue-green, like your _previous_ attempts..."

Howl ignored the jibe and reached up and plucked out a few strands of his hair, without complaint. He handed them over to Snape who chose not to comment on the Wizard's unusual compliance.

"I'll be in the bathroom, tell that insolent brat once more that it is strictly out of bounds."

"Snape?" Howl asked with an innocent look on his face.

"Yes?"

"Why do you insist on acting like an old man? Why, you are only in your mid-forties, is it? Mid-thirties?" he amended, when Snape's eyebrow twitched. "Well, even more reason for it then! And why are you always clad in those hideous black robes?"

"My disposition is none of your business. And the robes are practical, and _I _happen to like them." Not to mention that stains are not easily visible, Severus thought, recalling the 'lab' in his hut, and the mess on the kitchen bench.

He turned to leave, but Howl stopped him once again.

"You know, colour makes one's life infinitely more beautiful. You should give it a try sometime. I think you'd look resplendent in green..."

Snape clutched the rail tightly, wishing for his voice not to waver.

"Why green?" He asked not looking at Howl.

"It's my favourite colour" he said simply.

A knock on the door, spared Severus from replying. Since Sophie and Markl were out shopping, Howl had to answer himself. The bell was set to Kingsbury, and when the door opened, Severus could catch a glimpse of the Palace.

It was an old, if possible even older than Sophie, lady, with few white hair on her head and a big red nose. At the sight of her, Howl jumped five steps back, his jacket sliding from his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Snape hissed "That's a customer."

"This is no customer" Howl said darkly "This is the Witch of the Waste, I'm sure of it!"

Calcifer seemed to be waking from his slumber at that, and looked at the old lady fearfully "Don't let her get near me!"

Snape rolled his eyes. He'd never understood what was the history between Howl and the cunning Witch of the Waste, but that woman could hardly stand, let alone throw curses at unsuspecting people.

He approached her, with Howl on his tail, and the woman produced a piece of paper from her pocket. Snape took it, while Howl read it over his shoulder.

"That's an invitation to the Witch... _of the Waste_" Snape said in amazement. Howl grabbed the paper from his hands and turned it over. A round seal was on the backside, and Howl dropped it as if it burned his skin.

"That's from Sulliman. _She_ did this to her! She tricked the Witch of the Waste into going to the Palace under the pretence of a royal invitation, and she stripped her of her powers. It was the _only_ thing that kept her young and handsome."

"Sulliman?" Snape enquired.

"Yes, that evil wench! She's the King's sorceress. She did this on purpose because I won't join in the war. And now I'll never get it back!"

Snape raised an eyebrow, wanting to ask what Howl had meant, but the sheer desperation on Howl's face made him bite back his words.

Seeing spoilt, proud, _careless_ Howl being reduced to delirium, did things to Snape's stomach, and he attempted something that he hadn't done in his entire life; he tried to console him, and patted him awkwardly on the back a few times.

"I'm sure it's not as bad as you make it out to be. If this is indeed the Witch of the Waste, what more harm can she do now?"

Howl searched him with his eyes, and then pinned him with his gaze. "You don't understand..." he said sadly, and then leaned in as if he wanted to do something, but quickly changed his mind and turned away, vanishing upstairs. Snape felt bereft for some reason, like cold wind was rushing throughout his body.

Sophie and Markl appeared at the door then, a basket full of vegetables between them, and Snape wondered how in hell he was going to explain what had just happened.

….

The following morning Snape barricaded himself in the bathroom at the crack of dawn. He wanted to get on with the tedious testing, because the dye, of all things, might stroke Howl's vanity and cheer him up. Not that Severus cared particularly for his employer's well-being, or so he kept telling himself. Three hours later he was holding in his hands a lock of golden-blond hair, that was shinning in the light. He quickly went downstairs to announce triumph, but Sophie, Markl and even Calcifer's downcast expressions, made him linger on the stairs.

"Is anything wrong?"

Sophie bit her lip and Markl gestured to the direction of the table. The Witch of the Waste was snoring softly on a chair, but Snape felt somehow that this wasn't what Markl was pointing to. After all, Sophie had decided the previous day that the Witch had been punished enough for all the bad deeds she had done, and that they would be taking her in. She was quite harmless, even though Calcifer would squeal and complain about it, to no end. The funny thing was that Sophie was looking younger by the hour. Snape approached the table and saw a note left there, and behind it, a pouch. He read the note quickly, a sort of freezing sensation setting on his spine, and then put it down slowly. So Howl had run off again. '_Thank you for your hard work_' and all that... The money on the pouch was to compensate for Snape's troubles. He looked over at the door and sure enough, there was another colour on the bell. Only Howl probably knew where that one led to.

"Sophie spoke timidly: "He said to thank you and that he is sorry..."

A wave of anger flared inside Snape then. He grabbed the pouch and opened it; there was a small fortune in there. It would seem that business in both Jenkin's and Pendragon's was going well... He took only what he had spent on ingredients (which was little, given the fact that Howl's cabinet had an impressive supply), leaving out his own work. A soft glimmer caught his eye before he closed the pouch. He reached inside and took the object out. It was one of Howl's dangling, green earrings. Snape clutched tightly in his palm, not caring it would break from the force. _Damn him! Damn him to hell..._

He tossed it in his pocket and made his way upstairs to gather his tools. The golden lock of hair had fallen on the floor, but neither Markl nor Sophie said anything about it.

….

Work was a miraculous therapeutic measure. Work and routine. It made one forget past things, focus on new things, numb longing, and bring peace.

Severus' super-potion for common ailments and illnesses, had eventually worked on only one: constipation. But it hadn't been an entire failure, and Severus was pleased. His neighbour, a man by the name of Filtch, who had a sour expression on his face all the years that Snape had known him, had turned into a faithful buyer of the potion, and Snape was amused to note that Filtch's expression had brightened up considerably.

So all in all, Severus thought, he was fine. _Fine_. So what was he doing drinking at the dingy inn called the 'Three Broomsticks', surrounded by smelly fishermen, for the better part of the evening?

He quickly dismissed the question, not one to admit his own life's mishaps, and waved the bartender for another drink. Instead of a mug though, he found in front of him a money pouch. He raised his eyes in apprehension; a young woman with long silver hair, was standing next to him, smiling gently. Her eyes reminded him of something, but he was quite inebriated to trust his judgement.

"It's Sophie" the girl said helpfully. "Hello, Severus."

Snape gave her an all-over look, and turned back to his drink.

"Congratulations on dispelling the curse, Miss Hatter."

"So you knew about that?" Sophie smiled. "I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier, but many things changed in the castle... Oh, and you forgot to take the rest of the money."

_So that was it..._

"If I refused them the first time around, what makes you think I'll accept them this time? Now, if you please, I'm quite busy..."

Sophie didn't even flinch, and with a long suffering sigh, she sat down next to him. It seemed that young Sophie was as tenacious as the older version.

"Severus, there are some things you don't know about Howl..." she started, but Snape jumped in:

"And I intent to keep it that way. Sophie, I don't _wish_ to know..."

The unuttered '_please_' was etched all over his face, but Sophie knew he'd never say it aloud.

He took a swig of his drink, as if the topic was no longer open for conversation, and Sophie realized that Snape was drowning himself in liquor, because, as she had already guessed, he had somehow fallen victim to How's devastating charm (_haven't we all?_ she wondered privately), and being the kind of man he was, he hated himself for it.

"If you think that I've never experienced the desperation and humiliation of being in love, _alone_, then you are horribly mistaken, Severus Snape!"

Severus choked on his spit, but Sophie ignored him, and continued fervently, "I can _understand_ you, so you'll sit down and listen to me!"

Snape had a stunned look on his face, but he gave her the courtesy of not protesting, and Sophie breathed out in relief. It was difficult to empathise with a person like Snape, because he was the type to resent compassion and punish you for it. Sophie didn't have to offer any words of consolation; how many times after all, had she found herself in the same situation... Howl was elusive and his attentions fleeting, and it was hopeless to try and catch him. But Severus didn't know the whole story and he needed to hear it.

"Howl didn't leave because he didn't care about any of us. But let me explain... When Howl was a child he caught a falling star, Calcifer" Snape looked up in surprise, and Sophie nodded affirmatively "he gave it his heart in order to keep it alive, and he grew up into a whimsical and cold-hearted individual, that avoided responsibilities, and cared only for himself. It might seem cowardly, but going away was the bravest thing he had ever done. He went away in order to fight his demons, I believe you've heard about Madame Sulliman before... and by doing so, regained part of his humanity. When he returned, the Witch of the Waste who had found his heart in the castle and had sneakily kept it for herself, gave it back to him freely, thus releasing both him _and_ Calcifer. Oh, and you heard of course about Prince Justin showing up and both sides of the war declaring peace? That was Turnip Head, but that's another story, for another time. The point is, that Howl went away so he could come back better. He thought you'd realize that... I believe he even left something for you?" she asked shyly.

Snape's eyes were focused on the glass in front of him, and he was still as a statue. Sophie thought that it would please him to find out the truth, and maybe forgive Howl for his behaviour. But Snape wouldn't even look at her. She lowered her eyes, and took back the pouch.

"Markl says he misses the bubbling cauldron and the colourful smoke in the bathroom, he somehow thought it was a game..." she smiled sadly.

Snape was still looking at the glass when she had turned to leave.

….

Snape took the backstreets in order to return home, wishing he could melt away in the shadows of the narrow alleyways.

Sophie's words had deeply unstrung him, but the fact of the matter was that Howl had left right when _something_ had begun to sparkle between them. Right when Snape had decided to let his guard down a little, and bask in the warmth of that sparkle. Warmth that he thought he'd never feel again and that Howl, with his shining presence, had ignited inside of him once more. And if he avoided Snape _now_ that he apparently had his heart back, wasn't that enough of an indication that whatever had transpired between them was clearly in Severus' head only? Besides, with a pretty (and confident, and kind - Snape had to give her that - ) girl like Sophie around him, why would Howl search for love (he cringed at the word) elsewhere? He was a poor Potions maker, and though brilliant in his job, had no significant achievements to speak of, so far. And he was tall, and gangly, and overly thin, and had a bloody crooked nose, which for the first time in his life wished away, and his best potion up to date merely helped his old neighbour go to the toilet! So it was pretty obvious why Howl would never want anything to do with him, and Snape thought he should start getting used to the idea.

His depressing musings were interrupted when he stepped on something, producing a crunching noise that echoed in the silence of the night. Snape looked at the ground and picked up the battered flower. It was, or rather had been, a rose and most of its petals were scattered around Snape's foot. He noticed another rose a little further away, and lifting his head, he found a whole trail of roses spread out in front of him. He was drunk, but not _that_ drunk.

He followed the rosy path to arrive at a cliff overlooking the sea. It was an exceptionally bright night, the sky clear of clouds and the moon only a couple of days away from being full.

After a few moments, Severus felt movement behind him, but he didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"I... I didn't know what was your favourite flower, so I picked red roses, because it's my favourite one..." Howl said softly.

At Snape's silence, he came closer, standing in front of him. Snape took in the blond head (Howl wasn't being vain, when he'd said that blond was the colour that suited him best, Snape realised) that he was missing all this time. He noticed that Howl was wearing only one earring, and his mind started working again at that. He reached inside his pocket and produced its twin.

Howl's hand closed around his own. "No, I want you to keep it, and I'll never take the other one off."

Snape nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet, and Howl came closer and whispered "I'm sorry" before holding him in a tight embrace. Snape's initial shock at the intimacy of the gesture subsided after a while, and he reached for Howl's hair, twisting a lock around his fingers. Howl laughed against his neck, sending wonderful flutters in Snape's belly.

"There is a laboratory waiting for you in the castle" Howl said, straightening up. "I've even put an anti-Markl seal on the door..."

Severus laughed at that, loud and relieved, and seeing him laughing, Howl gave him one of his most beautiful smiles. He leaned in then and kissed Snape square on the mouth, and Severus smiled through the kiss, bringing one hand up to caress Howl's cheek. His body suddenly felt lighter, and a small breeze rushed through his legs. Howl has holding them on air, a few feet above the ground, and with a cheeky grin, he grabbed Snape's waist and swirled them around.

Snape laughed again, feeling something which might have been happiness, seep into his soul.

"Walk with me?" Howl asked smiling. Snape nodded and took Howl's hand, as they climbed higher and higher into the stars.

The End


End file.
